25.4.12

Silvery gray hair taking over my temples, aches and pains when I sit in one position for too long, the complete inability to down shot after shot and still function the next day... It's all gone gone gone, left in the hazy memory of my youth.

Some days I feel wise and experienced; others I'm fumbling toward decrepitude and decay.

But I never doubt for a second that I'll wake up tomorrow and the day after and the day after. Older, grayer, more dismayed at teen culture than the day before, more accepting of myself as time marches on.

My son has been terrorizing his little sister. I sat him down in a quiet moment today and told him my story. I shared with him that I wasted my childhood fighting with my sisters, with that sister in particular, and that I regret it every single day of my life.

As an adult, when her life is a struggle and she can take nothing for granted, I understand that she was a gift given to me when I was just four years old. But then? She was a brat, a nuisance, the kid who stole all the attention, who I thought had an easy ride.

We're both older now, and she's older than we ever thought she'd be. Yet I rarely see her age written across her expression or her attitude. She's forever hopeful, forever determined, forever young.

And so my age is showing. Time marches on and the gray strands will soon outnumber the brown and I'll eventually need to turn the music down in the car and I won't understand what the youngsters are talking about.

My family is rather fragmented (I am the only one who speaks to every member) and your post reminds me that the effort to keep the links of family together far outweigh the bitter resentment, petty jealousies etc that have left my siblings and parents to no longer try.

Thanks for that positive message, and I hope your sister remains by your side for years to come.

How fitting that I should read this today. I'm so glad you've had time to learn to treasure and appreciate time iwth your sister. I say it's fitting because I had a similar conversation with my oldest daughter today about her younger sister. They used to be inseparable. Now they barely speak without a shove or eye roll.

Oh, yes, Lord. Please. Give her gray strands of time in her hair, too. I recall years of fighting with my sister, too. Now? She's one of my best friends. We have a lot of conversations in this house like the one you had with J. Beautifully expressed, Kelly.

Having not known my grandparents, I think I always have longed for the days when I'm older, and able to gather my family around me. Isn't that the beauty of being older? The connections and friendships that we finally have the perspective to see and understand?